


The Searchers

by Kitkatzgr8



Series: Beneath The Ink [2]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Beneath the Ink AU (kinda), Gen, Joey Drew is honestly pretty messed up, Pre-Henry fic, Searcher creation theory, searchers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 02:46:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11282160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitkatzgr8/pseuds/Kitkatzgr8
Summary: "C'mon Em, what happened to you all being excited about this! You were all for exploring the studio thirty minutes ago! We used to be all over this kinda stuff when we were kids, right? Remember the club?”She smiles slightly. “How could I forget the club; it was only what I lived for when I was a kid! What did we call it?”Closing her eyes and thinking for a moment, she smiles as she opens her eyes and holds out her hand. Jacob grins, then gently high fives it, slapping their other hands together, then fist bumping before jumping, landing back to back as they both made an ‘S’ sign out of their middle and index fingers. “There are things to find every day, and we’ll discover them in any way!”“Emily!” she says, stepping forward, glancing back at Jacob with a grin.“And Jacob!” He steps forwards to join her, grabbing her left hand in his right and raising it in the air.“The Searchers!” They both say the name of their club together, then burst into laughter.





	The Searchers

**Author's Note:**

> I just had this random idea and figured it kinda connected to my 'Dreams Come True' fic, but not well enough to just add onto that one, so... the "Beneath The Ink" series was born.
> 
> Anywho, this is based on the idea in that fic that the Searchers were just people that broke into the studio for fun over the years, which Joey didn't exactly appreciate. Set in the year 2000 (and by that, I mean I took the two most popular names from that year, threw some Ugg boots and a denim skirt on the girl, gave them a Blackberry, and threw in two slang words from that year and called it good. Go me) So... yeah, hope you enjoy?

“Awe c’mon Em, you going all chicken on me?”

“No! I just… this place gives me the creeps…”

The girl gives the boy a glare as he starts making chicken sounds, then punches his arm. “Hey, ow!” he complains, rubbing his arm. She just sticks out her tongue at him. “Geez, Emily! Fine, you’re not a chicken, you’re…” he trails off.

“I’m a…” she prompts him onward.

He sighs. “A beautiful, intellectual female that I don’t deserve to have as a friend,” he drawls, rolling his eyes.

“Darn right. I’m not scared, I’m just using my smarts to deduce that there are literally a billion things wrong with what we’re doing. I mean, just look at this place!” She gestures around at the rotting boards around them. “Nobody’s been here for years, obviously, and maybe there’s a reason! It was fun to talk about hypothetically checking out this old studio, but actually coming here… We’re in the middle of nowhere, this building looks like it could collapse at any moment-” There’s an echoing thud from farther down the hall as a board falls from the ceiling as if to prove her point. She continues, ticking off her reasons on her fingers, “And, not to mention the fact that we didn’t tell the 'rents we were going out here!” Reaching into her purse, she pulls out her Blackberry and looks at the screen. “And, wow, isn’t this just dandy, we have no cell service out here. This is the cliche start to any horror story, and we’re just gonna keep on exploring because…?” 

“Because it’s cool?” he offers, pointing the flashlight towards the wall and examining the posters plastered neatly in a row against the yellowing boards. “Oh, wow, ‘Little Devil Darling,’ that was one of my favorites!” Grabbing one of the peeling corners, he slowly pulls off the poster as his companion glares at him. 

“You’re an idiot, Jacob,” she hisses. 

“Awe, you’re hwrting my feewings,” he says sarcastically.

“Didn’t you try to pull the push door coming in here? And what if we get caught? This is technically stealing!” 

He shrugs as he rolls up the poster and puts it in his backpack with everything else that he had found. “Okay, first off, that was an honest mistake. And chillax! The show hasn’t been running since my grandpa was a kid! I only know about it since I found those old tapes in his basement that had some of the short films on them. This studio is obviously abandoned; I’m sure nobody’s gonna mind.” 

“If the studio’s abandoned, why’s there fresh ink all over the place?” 

“Um, fresh?” Running his hand over some ink smeared on the wall, his hand comes away clean. 

She rolls her eyes again. “Not there, idiot. Have you honestly not been looking around? Ink is literally everywhere!” Looking down at her clothes, she tries rubbing out one of the ink spots on her denim skirt, only managing to smear the ink more and stain her fingers. Hearing a small splash, she looks down and sees the small puddle she just stepped into. “Arg, I literally just got these Uggs!" she mutters. Leaning against the wall, she crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow at Jacob. "And really? I’m surprised that you’re focusing on that ink being dry and not the fact that it says’ dreams come true.’ Honestly, this place is so creepy.” 

“Fine, scaredy cat. Just go wait in the truck, I’ll only be, like, 20 more minutes.” Looking at the ink again, his eyes widen. “Oh, wow… it really does say ‘dreams come true’... Well, there’s not really anything creepy about that, I mean, it being an inspirational message and all.”

“Inspir…” she facepalms. “You know what, I don’t think I can leave you here alone-”

“-I was kidding-”

“-You’d probably end up walking into a death trap thinking it was a carnival or something. C’mon, let’s get this over with.” Grabbing the front of his hoodie, ignoring his complaining about her fingers staining the fabric, she drags him down the hall, then stops in the front of a room, pushing the door open. “Look, a desk,” she deadpans. Pulling him farther down the hall, she stops in front of a small alcove. “Look, a Bendy cutout.” Reaching the end of the hallway, she stops again, preparing to continue her tour. “Look, a… what the heck is this?”

“Ink Machine,” Jacob says thoughtfully, looking up at the sign above the doorway. “Strange, you would’ve thought we’d have noticed this coming in earlier.” Ignoring Emily's protests, he walks closer to the machine, which seemed to be turned off at the moment. “Hmm…” Tapping the tank labeled ‘INK’ on the side, he looks at it thoughtfully and runs his fingers through his hair, making his blonde spikes stand up even more. “Wonder how you turn it on.”

“How you turn it… you can’t be serious.” As he begins looking around the machine for an ‘on’ switch, she facepalms. “Of course, why not? Come into a creepy, rotting studio, where cardboard cutouts of cartoon characters seem to follow you around, and what’s the obvious option? Trying to turn on a random machine that you find in it just to see what it does!”

“Uh huh…” he says distractedly. ‘Hey Em, d’ya see any way to turn this thing on?” 

“No,” she responds, looking over her shoulder. “Now let’s go.” 

“Awe, c’mon, just five more minutes? I promise I won’t try to turn on any other things!”

“Just like you promised you wouldn’t mess around with anything after playing with that flow button?”

“It’s not like it did anything, anyway! And what happened to you all being excited about this! You were all for this excursion thirty minutes ago! We used to be all over this kinda stuff when we were kids, right? Remember the club?”

She smiles slightly. “How could I forget the club; it was only what I lived for when I was a kid! What did we call it?”

Closing her eyes and thinking for a moment, she smiles as she opens her eyes and holds out her hand. Jacob grins, then gently high fives it, slapping their other hands together, then fist bumping before jumping, landing back to back as they both made an ‘S’ sign out of their middle and index fingers. “There are things to find every day, and we’ll discover them in any way!”

“Emily!” she says, stepping forward, glancing back at Jacob with a grin.

“And Jacob!” He steps forwards to join her, grabbing her left hand in his right and raising it in the air.

“The Searchers!” They both say the name of their club together, then burst into laughter. 

“Haven’t thought of that old thing in years!” Emily says with a smile. “Drove our moms nuts, always out getting into all sorts of trouble for exploring the town alone.” Then her smile drops. “And, well, this was actually pretty cool at first. Being able to see the inner workings of a real-life animation studio and everything. But… I dunno, after we saw that operation table with… w-with that one dog character on it…. and found that recording… not to mention all those creepy cutouts..." rubbing her bare arms nervously, she shivers slightly as she looks around at the decrepit studio. 

“Hey, I’m sure it wasn’t an operation table, and it definitely wasn’t a real corpse,” Jacob says softly, putting a hand comfortingly on her shoulder as he sees that she was genuinely scared, no matter how much she may deny it.

“It had straps on it. Holding a life-sized figure of a cartoon character down on it. Why would an animation studio need that?”

“For a reference, maybe? Didn’t the show get a bit dark at the end? Maybe there was a Frankenstein-esque one for Halloween, and they needed a reference for an operating table and a cut-open Boris? Probably just got left there as the show fell apart. And as for that recording, why did that freak you out? It was just some dude ranting about his employer, from what I could tell.”

“Didn’t you hear it, though? When you knocked it off that chair and it started playing… it was him complaining about Drew, but…” She took a breath. “But before you rewound it and placed it on that shelf… it said something about appeasing the gods.” Looking up nervously at her friend, she whispered. “I did some research, y’know, like I always do. Finding all the interesting things, the conspiracy theories, the abnormal, going through some old articles, asking my grandparents... and… Well, this Joey Drew person, he… you were right in saying some of the last episodes had some darker themes. Satanic themes, references to cults, all that stuff. It’s part of the reason they had to shut down; parents weren’t really okay with their kids watching that stuff. It was a bit ahead of its time, really. And then, things went weird with Joey Drew studios; people resigning because of their employer’s ‘strange’ behaviors and stuff. He did crazy stuff, Jacob. And I’m just worried…”

He shushes her, then smiles reassuringly. “Em, it’s fine. If it bothers you that much, we’ll leave.” He pauses. “That is, once you find one more cool piece of loot for my collection” 

Emily giggles quietly, relaxing slightly. “You and your weird obsessions.”

“Hey, it’s not weird! It was a good show! Now,” he gestures towards the hallway. "Lead the way. I'm sure you can find another thing on the way out."

Grabbing his hand, she pulls him after her, hair bouncing over her shoulder as they jog down the hallway. "Hmmm... how about..." Seeing a dusty Bendy plush sitting on a chair off to their right, she grabs the doll, then drops it as it squeaks loudly. "Holy-"

Jacob laughs, picking up the doll as he squeezes her hand reassuringly. "Nothing to be afraid of. Now, I'll keep my promise. Where's the exit?"

“I think it’s...” Emily falls silent. After a couple moments, she begins speaking again, her whisper laced with fear. “Did you hear that?” 

“Hear wh-” His eyes widened as she clamps a hand over his mouth. 

‘Listen’ she mouths, putting her index finger over her mouth to indicate that he should be quiet. Peeling her hand off of his mouth, he nods, then listens. 

Then he heard it. There was a thumping noise, followed by a slight squishing noise and labored breathing. The noises repeated themselves, echoing quietly off the walls as they worked their way down the hallways.

And it was getting closer. 

‘Go,’ Jacob mouths, and Emily nods. Both of them slowly moving out into the main room, they quickly locate the exit door and begin walking down the hallway, staying close to the walls to avoid the creaky floorboards in the middle. Finally reaching the door, Jacob grabs the doorknob and tugs.

The door doesn’t open.

‘Push!’ Emily mouths repeatedly, gesturing wildly as the sounds get closer. Turning the knob, Jacob throws himself against the door, pushing against the wood as hard as he can. 

“You know, I don’t exactly love it when people break in and take things that don’t belong to them,” a voice echoes down the hall. 

“W-who’s there?” Jacob stutters as Emily takes over frantically pulling on the door. “We didn’t m-mean any harm! Uh, here!” Tossing his bag down the hall, he watches as the items he had taken spill out the un-zipped opening of the backpack. As an afterthought, he tosses the small plush, hearing it squeak creepily as it bounces off of the top of the record and lands in a sitting position next to the small inkwell he had found under one of the desks. “T-that’s all I took, I swear! N-now, please, w-we don’t want any t-trouble, s-sir. W-we’ll just leave now, okay?”

There was a low chuckle that sounded anything but happy. “I work for years, dedicate my life my work, and this is how I end up? My building being broken into by hoodlums, wrecking my studio, taking whatever they want because they want to?” A figure slowly comes into view at the end of the short hallway as they turn the hallway, and Jacob finally sees what had been making the noise. The man leans lightly on a wooden clutch, making a thunking sound every time it touches the floor, followed by the squelching sound of his un-maimed, ink covered foot taking a step forward. Actually, once Jacob paid attention, his foot wasn’t the only thing covered in ink. Below the knee, his pant legs were drenched in the stuff, small splatters marring the lightly colored fabric above. The cuffs of his rolled-up sleeves were also splattered, along with his hands up to his elbows being completely covered, almost like he was wearing gloves. 

“I built myself up from nothing, trying to bring happiness to the lives around me. I made people laugh with my cartoons from a studio I formed myself when nobody would hire a cripple. But here I stand, disrespected, abandoned by the people I thought I could trust, and the items I need for my work stolen.” Picking up the Bendy plush, he lightly brushes it off before tucking it under the arm that wasn’t occupied by a crutch.

“Y...You’re Joey Drew,” Jacob says in a quiet, yet slightly awed voice. “As in, Joey Drew Studios! Maker of the Bendy shorts, voice actor for the little devil himself, and director of the whole dang show!” 

“I know you’re a fan,” Drew says in a dark tone. “I’ve been listening to you blabber this whole time. Only decided to step in when you were trying to leave with my stuff. Do you really think I’d just let you off the hook for liking my show?”

“...Maybe?” Emily elbows Jacob in the ribs, making him wince. 

“No, sir. We are so sorry for coming here, we just thought it’d be cool to come see the original studios, but now that we see that it’s not abandoned, we apologize for the inconvenience, and we’ll be on our way. If we did accidentally break anything, we’ll be sure to fix it or reimburse you whatever amount of money.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Drew says with a small shake of his head. 

“Oh, really? That’s great, because I’m actually pretty much broke right n-” Jacob is cut off by another elbow to the ribs. 

Turning heavily on his crutch, Joey looks down at the items, thinking hard. Seemingly coming to a decision, he begins to limp back down the hallway. “Grab those things and follow me,” he calls. Jacob and Emily share a quick glance, then race to shove the things back in the backpack and hurry after Joey Drew. 

“D’ya think we got off the hook?” Jacob whispers to Emily as they turn left before the Ink Machine room. 

She bites her lip. “I dunno. Let’s just do what he wants us to do, and maybe he won’t call the cops.”

Jacob shudders. “Ugh, my parents would kill me if that happened. He went from mean to okay pretty quick, so maybe we’re good?”

“Too quick, if you ask me,” she mumbles to herself nervously as they follow Drew into the pedestal room they had explored earlier. 

“Oh, hey, look! It’s the inkwell!” Jacob says, pointing to the small, framed picture behind one of the pedestals sporting the silhouette of what did indeed look like the inkwell. Digging around in the bag, he takes out the small bottle, examining it before putting it on the pedestal. 

“I want you to put all the items on the corresponding pedestals, please. Then you’re free to go,” Drew says cheerfully, seeming like a totally different man than the one who had cornered them at the entrance. 

“Sure thing, Mr. Drew!” Jacob says, grabbing the record from the bag, then matching it up with the circular silhouette. 

“So, Mr. Drew,” Emily says quietly. “Why have you been here all this time? According to the world, you’re dead.”

“Hmm, really?” he says distractedly, watching as Jacob matches up the random gear with the proper pedestal. She still didn’t know why he had taken the gear; it really wasn’t special or related to the Bendy franchise in any way, but he had just replied that any part of the studio where the magic had happened was a treasure in his book. She had then jokingly filled his backpack with broken planks of wood, stacks of old paper, and empty film reels, saying innocently that it was all to be treasured. He had finally put a stop to it when she had tried to fit an ink-soaked Bendy cutout and a broken projector into his backpack when he wasn’t looking.

“Yeah… Mr. Drew, why are you still here? Y’know, there are tons of people that would love for you to join their animation companies, or heck, even continue the old Bendy cartoons! The darker themes would be way more welcome in this time period, and I know some people who are still really into the cartoons.”

Tossing the plushie to Jacob for him to finish the job, Drew nods. “Oh, my animations are going to start rolling out again, that’s for certain. Just need to work out the kinks in my… project, and I’m all set to go.”

“Wait, really? That’s awesome!” Jacob says excitedly, placing the Bendy plush on the correct pedestal and turning to look at Joey. “Will you be voicing Bendy again?”

“Well, if I can actually get everything to work properly, that won’t be necessa…” He trails off, and then looks up, a look of realization coming over his face. 

“But… but of course!” he mutters excitedly, just loud enough that the teens could understand him. “If I could… a human soul to base… then all the problems would be solved! I was just going to try again with Boris… Of course, of course, why didn’t I think of it myself! Though, of course, I’ll need more for all the characters, but… oh… this will make it so much easier! Of course, tests, I’ll need to test it first, a little more experimentation with the ink, and I’ll have to dive deeper into the ritual, but still….” Pacing back and forth, his crutch thumping loudly against the floor as he continues to rant to himself. The two teenagers exchange worried looks, then looked back up as Drew finishes muttering to himself, his eyes brighter than they had been all this time they had seen him. 

“...tests...” he whispers quietly, looking at the teens. 

“Umm, Mr. Drew, did you say ‘trying again with Boris?’” Emily says uneasily as Jacob asks “A human soul to base…? And a ritual?”

Drew shakes himself out of whatever he was thinking of, seeming to finally realize that the teens were still there and could hear him. “Oh… of course, that must all sound strange to you! I... put my soul into my work, ‘basing’ it on that, in a way. ‘Ritual’ is just a word we used to use in the animation biz for… the steps we take to animate. You just gave me the most brilliant idea, boy, and though I may have to bend the rules a bit, I think I can make it work and take animation to a whole new level…”

“Trying again with Boris…?” Emily repeats.

“Never mind that, come with me!” Drew says, gesturing the kids towards the hall. Taking out a small, black leather-bound book from his breast pocket, he places it on the last open pedestal, then limps over to the switch on the wall and pulls down. “Hmmm, the ink flow is already on,” he muses. 

“Oh, sorry, my fault,” Jacob says, sounding slightly embarrassed.

“No, my boy! It’s fine! Just takes another long walk out of my agenda.” Drew laughs, lightly patting Jacob on the back. “In return for giving me that idea… how would you two like to help with the show?”

Jacob gasps, turning towards him with wide eyes. “Are... are you serious? Do you mean it? Like, record lines or something? Or help animate?”

Drew laughs. “Well, not help in that way, but you would be helping the show progress. You said you were a fan, didn’t you? How would you like to be the one who helped me with my first breakthrough in over 15 years?”

“Heck yeah!” Jacob says excitedly, then glances at Emily curiously as she grabs his arm. To people who didn’t know her very well, they might have thought she was just as excited as Jacob. But to Jacob, who had known her since kindergarten, he saw the way the nails of her other hand pressed deep into her palm, the way the corners of her mouth stiffly remained in a smile, and the way her eyes didn’t light up the way they usually did when she was excited. 

Her eyes looked absolutely terrified.

She was never terrified.

“Why, that’s very generous of you, Mr. Drew, but it’s getting rather late, and our parents are expecting us,” she says, still holding up her smile, which now looked so wide, faked, and forced, she might as well have been one of those Bendy cardboard cutouts with their ridiculously wide smiles.

“Oh, but I insist!” Drew says, his voice dropping slightly lower. Grabbing her arm, he continues to limp down the hallway, turning into the ink machine room before letting go. “This will only take a minute, I promise.”

“No, really, it’s fine, take as much time as you need!” Jacob says quickly as Joey disappears around the other side of the machine. Then his smile drops and he quickly turns towards Emily, who was rubbing her arm nervously.

“His hand was so cold,” she whispers.

“Em, what was up with that? Don’t you want to help kickstart the show? Besides, he obviously isn’t calling the cops on us. This is great!” he says loudly, glancing at the machine quickly before turning back to her. “Something’s off,” he whispers.

“I... I don’t know what we should-” Her voice is cut off by a loud banging, and then Joey Drew’s voice calling to them.

“Hey, could you kids see what’s clogging up the ink spout?” There’s a grunt, and then a mechanical creak as he continues messing with the other side of the machine. 

“Sure thing, Mr. Drew!” Jacob says obediently, running up to the spout of the machine, holding out a hand catch the small bit of ink trickling from the spout. 

With a sigh, Emily walks over to Jacob’s side, bending down in order to look up the nozzle with Jacob. “I just feel like he lied to us out there. Didn’t you hear him hesitate? I feel like there’s something bigger going on here, and we need to leave. Right. Now,” she whispers.

Jacob looks in the direction of Mr. Drew, then back at Emily. “I know, and I agree,” he whispers. “Something isn’t right. But he isn’t just going to let us leave… We need a plan.”

She nods. “We can’t wait for the possibility that he ‘lets us.’ We need to-”

There’s a loud clang, and then Drew appears next to the spout. Carefully lowering himself into a wooden chair conveniently set by the machine, he smiles happily. “Thank you so much for the help, kids. You really gave me a new perspective on what I needed to do.”

“But… we haven’t done much?” Jacob says curiously, pretending to still examine the spout as he looks as Emily, trying to figure out what to do. She jerks her head to the side subtly, then raises an eyebrow. Her meaning is clear. ‘Make a run for it?’

“Oh, no, you’ve done more than you even know,” he says happily. “And…”

Jerking his head slightly towards Joey, Jacob kicks the ground lightly with one foot, then taps the inside of the nozzle three times. ‘Can’t catch us with the leg. Let’s go on three.’

“...I’ll change the very way animation exists, if this works like I think it will…”

Her eyes widen. ‘The door’ she mouths.

“...You know, it’s a real shame you were a fan of the show…”

Jacob shakes his head subtly, then kicks the ground lightly again with one foot. ‘Kick it down.’

“...but, at least you’ll be here to see it all happen…”

‘On three,’ she mouths, then bites her lip.

“...I’ll reserve the actual toons for the ones who deserve it, but…”

‘On three,’ Jacob agrees. ‘1…’

“...I think you deserve more than to just be disposed of like the others…”

‘2…’

They never made it to three. 

Before he even knew what was happening, there was a loud clang, and he was thrown to the ground. His head hit the wooden boards hard enough to make his vision go black, forcing all the breath out of him.

No… the hit wasn’t what had done that. Opening his mouth to refill his lungs, it was instead filled with an oily black liquid. Choking on the ink, he tried to push himself off the ground, but the force of the ink shooting out of the machine was too strong. It poured down on him with the force of a waterfall, so strong on his chest and stomach, it felt as though his legs were being separated from his body. He could almost imagine his body being pressed into the floorboards, slowly liquefying into the ink that was destroying him. 

He felt as though the force should’ve pushed him to the side by now, but it didn’t. It kept him trapped under the stream, seeming to grow larger and more powerful by the second, even though the tank should have definitely been emptied by now.

“Quickly, quickly, there needs to be a pentagram for this to work,” he vaguely hears Joey Drew’s voice mutter to himself.

The last thing Jacob heard before the ink filled his ears was his own strangled scream being swallowed up by the ink.

In the last moments before he loses consciousness, he reaches out his hand, hoping, praying to find anything. His hand closes around something, squeezing it tightly, wishing it to be his last anchor to reality. He jerks in surprise as he feels it squeeze back. 

Emily’s hand.

Emily was here, too.

She had been the one who wanted to leave...

“There are things to find every day.”

He should’ve listened to her. 

“And we’ll discover them in any way!”

And in that last moment of life, he squeezes her hand again. 

‘I’m sorry’

She weakly squeezes back.

‘It’s okay’

Emily.

And Jacob.

The Searchers.

**Author's Note:**

> ...you know those moments when you write something at 1 in the morning, and it seems like the best thing you've ever written, and then in the morning you're like, "...wow, this is crap..."? 
> 
> Yeah... that was this fic... Like, I was legitimately proud of this at 1:30 this morning...
> 
> Whatever, I wrote something, and it was fun to write. Hope ya enjoyed! And who knows? Maybe I'll add onto this series again someday. Add a little Sammy Lawrence Pre-Henry stuff, or maybe throw in a Wally Franks fic or Susie Campbell or something. I dunno.
> 
> Well, have a great day/afternoon/night, and thank you for reading!


End file.
